


how sweet, the taste of certainty

by shadocoon



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, F/F, also this is my first marihilda! so i hope the connoisseurs enjoy, monster hunter hilda and vampire marianne, that's today's flavor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:42:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23383966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadocoon/pseuds/shadocoon
Summary: Hilda Valentine Goneril is a monster hunter--and she hates it. One day she gets a lucrative contract to kill a vampire, and the reward is enough for her to retire from the grind of hunting.But what happens if she can't bring herself to kill the target?
Relationships: Marianne von Edmund/Hilda Valentine Goneril
Comments: 5
Kudos: 121





	how sweet, the taste of certainty

**Author's Note:**

> hello! i am alive and posting marihilda for the first time ever! this is very different from the fic i usually write, but it's actually more similar to my personal writing (which is all fantasy)
> 
> also this is a very very very very belated fic for [chel!](https://twitter.com/ratbaby6969) thank u for ur patience friend <3

_Trust is a tree that towers 50 feet above us  
Grown over time through many seasons  
Believing in something more than just the surface  
I trust that this is worth it  
But my toes are hanging off the ledge _

* * *

“Too easy,” Hilda sighed as she wrenched her axe out of her most recent mark’s neck.

She sneered in distaste at the greenish blood that dripped off of her weapon. The townspeople had promised her a werewolf—said it had been tormenting their village for months. Turns out it had just been a dire wolf that had gotten a bit too much of a taste for human blood. Boring. Hilda wiped her axe off on the beast’s pelt before slinging the weapon across her back. Her brother, Holst, had said being a monster hunter was a fun way to make money, but over the years it had proven to be nothing but work, work, and more work.

“Gross,” Hilda muttered as she did her best to maneuver the wolf’s head into a sack without getting any of its dripping gore on her new boots.

She had to bring the trophy back to the village to get her pay. The money was the only reason she had kept up with the job for so long. She had been saving up for years now. Hopefully soon she would have enough to settle down and focus on her crafting. Killing monsters helped people, and that was all well and good, but she really wanted to create and sell fashion accessories. She just needed enough finances to set up shop and buy her materials. 

Hilda whistled at her horse, Peony, who trotted over from where she had been waiting, unfazed by the combat. Hilda began the ride back to the village. She had to find a contract that could be her final job, something that paid better than fighting wolves in podunk towns. Perhaps the village headsman would have a lead for her. That and her money of course.

* * *

“...And that’s 50,000 gold pieces. Thank you for your help.”

“Pleasure’s mine!” Hilda gave her most charming smile, winked, and pocketed the heavy sack of gold.

The gruff man gave a hesitant nod. His expression was a combination of relief and anxiety that Hilda was becoming all too familiar with. People really didn’t know how to feel about monster hunters. They were grateful for the work she did, but they were also terrified of her. The mixture turned into a distant respect that Hilda had not experienced before she had taken on the life of a hunter. It wasn’t awful having people look at her with awe, but at times it left a bad taste in her mouth. She was just a normal girl! A girl who could swing an axe that was as big as her without breaking a sweat, but still! Normal! Everyone just needed to calm down a little.

“Anything else?” The headsman shifted uneasily, no doubt waiting for her to leave so he could tell his people the good news.

Something in the air told Hilda that he would be able to lead her towards her final mark. She hadn’t gotten this far in a dangerous profession without knowing how to trust her gut. There was something interesting—and lucrative—on the horizon.

“Have any nearby towns put out a call for a hunter lately? Big contracts?” she asked.

The headsman scratched at his beard as he gave her question some thought. “I heard they’re having a nasty monster problem in Edmund. It’s a few days' ride to the east from here. They’ve been asking for help for a while now, but no one has come to their aid yet.”

Hilda thanked the man and left. It was midday, so she might as well start making her way to Edmund now. She was in bumfuck nowhere, so it was doubtful another hunter would snatch up the contract before her, especially if they had already been waiting so long. Still, her blood was thrumming. This was it. Her final mark. Hilda drummed her fingers on the pommel of Peony’s saddle, impatient to see what Edmund would bring.

* * *

“A vampire, huh?” Hilda muttered to herself as she left Edmund.

The past few days of travel had been uneventful, to say the least, but the boredom had been worth it. Edmund was an actual city, which was disorienting after the nothing she had just come from. But the sweet sweet sight of people, shops, and restaurants was just what she needed to keep going. Hilda ended up asking multiple people for directions before she had been able to track down the city watch who had issued the contract.

She had never hunted a vampire before and knew little about them other than rumors. She had thought they were just like humans—with slightly different palates—but here she was being tasked to hunt one down like a monster. The fear in the Edmund watchman’s eyes had given her a moment of pause, but any doubt had flown out the window when he had told her the reward. With the amount of gold they were offering, this truly would be her last hunt. Ever. Now, all she had to do was kill a vampire. She could practically see her future of travel and crafting before her.

Hilda had been expecting the directions she was given to lead her to a damp series of caves or some musty ruins. Instead she arrived in front of an immaculate and austere manor house a few miles outside of Edmund.

“Okay then, Peony, be back soon.” She gave the nervous horse a comforting pat.

It felt like a bad idea to just go up and knock on the front door, but the place looked so much like it could belong to a human family—an antisocial and strange family—but human all the same. The last thing Hilda wanted was to be chased out of town for breaking and entering before getting her money. So, after shaking off the sinister sensation that settled on her shoulders, Hilda knocked. The sound of her armored fist on the wood was smaller than she had expected, swallowed up by the dense atmosphere. No response. Just as she was about to formulate a new plan, the double doors swung open. There was, of course, no one on the other side.

“Cool,” Hilda said to the dim hallway, “This isn’t creepy at all.”

Axe in hand, she strode into the vampire’s domain.

The house was far bigger on the inside than it had appeared. There was no trace of life in any of the dozens of rooms she explored. Hilda was not sure how long she had been wandering the empty and ornate halls before she finally came upon something strange. She was meandering down a hallway she had already seen when the sound of a hushed and hurried voice drifted to her. Ears perking up, Hilda did her best to move without sound to the door the noise was coming from. Though she could not make out individual words, the cadence of the voice was so familiar that Hilda found herself straining to hear. It was not until she was right outside of the door that Hilda realized what she was hearing.

It was the sound of prayer. 

Now that gave her pause. Weren’t vampires fearful monsters, beholden to no goddess or god? Why did this fervent voice carry on in its begging mantra? She could understand enough words now to put together what they were praying for.

Forgiveness.

Before she could think better of it, Hilda opened the door a crack. If it really was the vampire in there, she would rush in, axe held high. There was always a chance it was just someone who was lost or… 

Hilda’s train of thought trailed off as she took in the scene on the other side of the door. She must have stumbled upon the manor’s chapel. It was a grand room with towering stained glass windows and rows of empty wooden pews. There was an intriguing stone statue at the far end. Though part of her wanted to examine it further, there was something more pressing calling for her attention. Hilda’s eyes locked on the figure in the center of the room.

She was beautiful, her cornflower blue hair pulled up into intricate braids, hands clasped before her. Even from a distance, Hilda could see her knuckles had grown white from how tightly she was grasping herself. She did not tremble though, despite the vigor of her prayer as hurried words fell from her lips like droplets of water. Aside from the movement of her mouth, she was as still as the statue that loomed behind her.

Hilda was so enthralled by the woman’s delicate features and how beautiful she was despite the agony that distorted her face, that it took her some time to notice the blood. The scarlet liquid stained the woman’s hands and pooled on the floor around her. No wonder she was praying! She had probably escaped the vampire and was scared and alone. Hilda rushed forward, the leather of her boots whispering on the marble floor.

“Hey,” she called, “You’re hurt, let me help!”

The woman ceased speaking, and the room was cast in a deadly pall of silence. She looked up then, her gray eyes locking Hilda in their desperate stare.

“Oh,” she said, voice pleading as her fangs gleamed, “Thank the Goddess you’re here.”

Hilda took a few more steps forward until she was standing only a couple of feet away from the woman. This close, Hilda could make out the bags under her haunted eyes, made only more stark by the deathly cast of her pale skin. Hilda gulped as she took in the pristine beauty of the woman’s delicate features. Even with the sweat and blood that marred her face, she was a picture of perfection. At the same moment, Hilda noticed the body that lay on the floor at the center of the pool of blood. Ah, so _that_ was the actual victim.

The vampire stood up. She was far taller than Hilda, but—where Hilda was muscle and curves—the vampire appeared willowy and fragile.

Hilda hefted her axe. “You must be the vampire everyone’s been talking about.”

This was the first human-like monster she had been hired to hunt, and she wasn’t really sure of the protocol. With wolves and wyverns and such, she would rush in and attack, but she didn’t kill humans. And although this woman was a vampire, she sure felt human to Hilda. If they had crossed paths in town instead of in a creepy chapel in an even creepier manor, she would have been more inclined to buy her a drink than to behead her. Maybe she should just leave instead of internally wrestling with moral uncertainty. She really needed that money though. She could almost taste the freedom it would buy her. The freedom to travel (without needing to _kill things_ ) and to create things (instead of _kill things_ ). The reward would change her life.

“That won’t work,” the vampire said, “You need a stake.”

Hilda lowered her axe a fraction in confusion. “Excuse me?”

“I’m assuming you’re here to kill me, and the axe will not work.” The vampire smiled. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

Hilda’s heart skipped a beat before she processed the meaning of the words.

“Hold on, hold on. You _want_ me to kill you?”

The vampire clasped her slender, blood soaked hands in front of her again, poised to pray once more. “I’ve been waiting for my entire life to die. Please help me, brave huntress.”

Well that made her… not want to kill this vampire at all. Her resolve to do the deed had been replaced by a newfound burning curiosity. And the flattery was nice too. How come no one else had ever called her ‘brave huntress?’ She felt a wild and uncontrollable attraction to this tragic figure and her aura of hopeful despair. Hilda touched the blade of her axe down to the floor with a clank.

“What’s your name?”

The vampire looked as startled by the question as Hilda felt. Why ask her name? This wasn’t a bar, it was a spooky vampire castle. And this wasn’t a girl she could bring home, unless bringing just her head counted. But still, maybe there was something in that name that would give Hilda a reason to let her live. Maybe there was something the vampire could say that could save Hilda from what she had to do.

“My name is… Marianne.”

Beautiful. Delicate. But also somehow… sad. Just like her.

“I’m Hilda. Why do you want to die?”

Might as well cut to the chase. Marianne turned away and took a few slow steps toward one of the stained glass windows. Hilda followed her, drawn closer still despite the warnings of danger in her mind. Because behind those warnings, there was another voice urging her on, telling her that her instincts had been pointing her towards Marianne for reasons other than hunting her down. She made sure to step around the bloody corpse. She really did like these boots.

“As a vampire,” Marianne began, “I am a curse to my family and my bloodline. I am a shame to my father and an aberration to the Goddess. My father’s men bring me corpses to feed on. He thinks… he thinks that with time he can fix me—change me—but I know it is not true.”

Hilda took a few more steps forward until she was standing next to Marianne who was staring at one of the stained glass windows. It depicted a rendition of the goddess’s ascension.

“The bodies my father brings keep me alive, but I am weak without a vassal to sustain me. I am a beast, but I cannot do even that properly. You must kill me to remove my shameful and monstrous blood from this world.”

“Whoa,” was all Hilda could say.

She realized she was standing right next to Marianne now. The woman was radiating a steady coolness in the way that reminded Hilda of body heat. She liked it. The cathedral was stuffy and she had begun to sweat. It was all she could do to not give into that magnetic pull and inch even closer. This was already a bit cozier than she had been expecting to get with a mark. Marianne was staring at her, clearly waiting for her to say more.

“What’s a vassal?” Hilda asked.

Marianne turned to face her. Even this close, her skin was more flawless and pale than porcelain. Hilda’s eyes roved across her face and down. Was her skin the same under the high collar of her dress? Marianne turned away to stare back out the distorted window.

“Even though I am a beast, it is not in my nature to kill or to feed off of the dead.” Marianne hesitated and grimaced for a moment. “I am fairly young and inexperienced, but, from what I have read, the vampires of old would have a vassal, a close and lifelong partner who would supply them with sustenance and companionship. In exchange, the vampire would protect this person and share with them eternal youth.”

Hilda liked the sound of that. Probably more than she should. Despite the warnings of practicality and safety in her mind, Hilda was beginning to formulate a plan. Perhaps there was a way for Marianne to get what she wanted without her needing to die. Without Hilda needing to become a murderer. And perhaps there was a way for Hilda to get what she wanted as well.

“Marianne.” Hilda waited until Marianne was looking at her to continue. “Do you want to die or do you want to stop feeling like a monster?”

Marianne flinched, but she did not answer. That hint was uncertainty was all Hilda needed. Besides, what need would someone have for prayer if they didn’t feel even a sliver of hope? Hilda turned to look into those haunted gray eyes.

“I have a plan,” Hilda stated, “If you’ll have me.”

**Author's Note:**

> end of part one! there will eventually be a part two!
> 
> uhhh hilda is gay, what else can i say?
> 
> anyway i hope everyone who reads this likes! i wanna get back to writing and posting my stuff so hopefully getting some of these drafts finished up will help!
> 
> please let me know your thoughts on my first marihilda! comments make my day and you can always hit me up on twitter [@shadocoon!](https://twitter.com/shadocoon)
> 
> -sarah


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